


As You Wish

by LilyRosePotter



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Multi, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosePotter/pseuds/LilyRosePotter
Summary: Tommy took his eyes off the prince for less than ten seconds and then he wasgone.





	As You Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silklace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silklace/gifts).
  * Inspired by [somewhere in the middle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765642) by [silklace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silklace/pseuds/silklace). 



> _“Look, we both know you are going to be service-topping the shit out of him for the rest of the night, minus the actual topping, so come down stairs with me and help me take care of the dogs and order dinner, and then you can go back to being the – the Protective and Loyal Captain of the Palace Guard Who Has Pledged Undying Fealty to his Golden Prince Forever and Always.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Tommy glares, “Right, so, if I’m the fucking Palace Guard and Jon’s the Prettiest Prince, what does that make you?”_
> 
> _Lovett snorts. “The hot, evil step-sister, obviously,” he says, rolling his eyes and groping around for a t-shirt. He pulls his head through it and then steps up to Jon and kisses him, eyes soft and a little indulgent. He touches Jon’s bare hip. “Go get in the shower, babe,” he says._
> 
> _“Evil step-sister, my ass,” Tommy gloats. “More like –”_
> 
> _Jon catches his last words as they head down stairs. “More like - Prince’s Most Trusted Council Advisor Whomst He’s Known and Pined for Since They Were Lads in Fencing Class Together, you little shit.”_

* * *

 

Tommy sees the flash of the knife with plenty of time to spare. A part of him glows with pride as he pockets it after the man pointing it at Jon drops to the ground under Tommy’s fist. Then he turns around.

Jon is nowhere to be seen. He was _just right there_. Tommy’s eyes were off of him for ten seconds at most.

“Cody!” he yells, turning in search of his deputy. “Where did the prince go?”

“I didn’t-” Cody starts, cutting himself off, perhaps at the look on Tommy’s face. “I was watching eight o’clock, I don’t know.”

 _Fuck_. Tommy tries to restrain his racing heart as he nods briskly. “Take this piece of shit back to the palace and send down reinforcements,” he orders quickly. Cody nods and drags the man on the ground to his feet.

The rest of the guardsmen who’d accompanied them into town are gathering, drawn by the disturbance or the break in the pattern. There aren’t enough of them.

Tommy gives terse, quick orders before setting off, practically at a run, in the direction of where he’d last seen Jon’s back. Maybe he’d just gone ahead, certain in his optimism and trust in this town, in his people, in Tommy. Never bothering to worry about the threats facing the crown prince.

_“I’m really not sure it’s a good idea to go out to the market today my lord,” Tommy says firmly. “Intelligence says that your uncle-”_

_“Fuck him,” Jon says with callous disregard for the fact that they’ve uncovered three plots already this year by his scheming uncle to harm Jon or Andy or both, to take the throne. “You know I have to go. How can I ever be a fair leader for my people if I don’t know them? Besides, Elijah will be expecting us.”_

_“I hardly think he’ll be offended if you don’t buy milk from him for one week,” Tommy argues, too sharp, hearing himself cross the line between captain of the guard talking to his prince and Tommy talking to his oldest friend._

_“I think he will,” Jon says mildly. “And besides,” with a dazzling smile, “you’ll be with me.”_

Jon is gone.

Tommy searches the entire market for him. He’s not talking to any of his favorite friendly vendors, he’s not petting the baby calf Elijah has tied beside his stall, he’s not sampling baked goods or lemonade. Tommy lost him. Tommy got distracted and he lost him.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. He makes eye contact with Michael and jerks his head out towards the street. He’ll tear the whole fucking town apart if he has to. He’s got to find Jon.

Jon is not in the bookshop looking at the new shipment. Jon’s not in the nursery school kissing babies. Jon’s not in any of the little houses lining the streets. Jon’s not even in the stables in the center of town.

Jon’s not anywhere in town against his will either. Tommy half expects, with every door he pushes open, to be met by the glint of weapons, Jon bleeding, Jon on the ground, Jon…

But Jon is nowhere.

Tommy’s not sure how long he’s been searching- how long he’s been failing, over and over again, when he hears his name being yelled from far away.

“Tommy!” Lovett yells again as he sprints down the street, as Tommy pulls himself out of the dilapidated shed that’s empty of anything but a few disgruntled chickens. “Tommy,” he says softer as he screeches to a stop. “He’s not here, you’ve got to regroup.”

“I’ve got to _find him_ ,” Tommy says desperately. He’s shocked to hear how hoarse and wrecked his own voice sounds. How long has he sounded like this talking to the townspeople?

“I _know_. We will find him,” Lovett says, voice firm even though his eyes reflect Tommy’s own fear. “But you all have searched the town three times over. Michael says you yourself have covered every inch. He’s not here, we need to go home and make a plan.”

“I can’t…” Tommy starts. He can’t leave, not while Jon might be here. He can’t stop, until he finds Jon.

“ _Tommy_ ,” Lovett is squeezing his hands so tightly they hurt. “You can’t do more here. Back at the palace, you can. No one else can get the guy you caught to say anything.”

Tommy looks at him carefully. The guy he caught, the man in the street, who flashed his knife at exactly the right moment, distracted Tommy at exactly the right moment, so that someone could _take Jon_.

“Let’s go,” Tommy says, tugging Lovett by the arm back to the street, back to the horses. He’s wasted so much time already.

“God, okay, not all of us are giants slow down just a little bit?”

 

***

 

_“Not all of us are giants, Jonathan!” Lovett whines as Jon lands a hit on his shoulder._

_“Not all of us are athletes either,” Tommy mocks as he deftly sidesteps his father’s foil. He’s punished for his distraction by a light smack to his head._

_“Focus Tommy,” his dad says sharply. “You’re not playing.”_

_Tommy knows he’s not playing. He’s been not playing for years, but now at fourteen, old enough and strong enough to wield a full size weapon, if with a bit of difficulty, he’s getting ready in earnest for the day he fully assumes his duty. The day, that’s coming soon, when he’ll swear to protect the crown, swear to protect Jon._

_Lovett and Jon are playing though. Poking each other with the light swords, technique sacrificed for the opportunity to rile each other up and talk shit. Lovett’s oath will be a different kind. To serve, yes, but to advise faithfully. To use his incredible brain for the benefit of Jon and the country._

_The relationship between counselor and prince is different, Tommy knows, than the prince and his guard. Tommy doesn’t wish for that bond; he was raised to have this one. He was made, he thinks sometimes, to do this. But that doesn’t stop the ugly swell of jealousy as Jon tackles Lovett to the mat, as they giggle at each other adoringly, like they’re each others’ favorite person in the whole world._

_“Tommy. Again.”_

_This time his focus doesn’t waver. This time he disarms his father easily and knocks him to the ground. This time he feels, standing above him, like the man who can someday take his father’s place as captain of the guard when Jon takes his father’s place as king._

_“Good,” his dad says, as Tommy offers him a hand to his feet. There’s a smattering of applause from the other mat. His dad shakes his head fondly. “Go on.”_

 

***

 

“I cannot emphasize enough how much you want to tell me what you know,” Tommy thunders, fingering the knife on the table.

He’s honestly not sure how far he’ll go to find Jon, but he’s knows it extends past killing the man who facilitated Jon’s loss.

“I don’t know anything!” the man repeats, for what must be the hundredth time. He sounds more panicked though. “Fabio didn’t tell any of us the whole-” he catches himself, but he’s said enough.

Lovett sucks in a harsh breath behind Tommy.

Tommy knew, already, that Jon’s uncle had to be behind this. The royal family has other enemies of course, but none dedicated enough or with enough resources to pull this off. But the confirmation forces him to confront what he’s known to be true since he lost Jon in the market.

If Jon’s not dead already, he will be soon.

The whole point of this is the line of succession. Fabio’s entire plan revolves around the untimely deaths of his nephews, with his hopes of facilitating the death of his brother the cherry on top. With his successful capture of Jon…

They’re out of time.

“He _will_ kill you,” Tommy says flatly. “I might not. If you tell me what you know.”

“You want to help him find the prince,” Lovett adds helpfully. “He’s the only one who can convince Tommy to be merciful.” Tommy shoots him a glare, but Lovett just shrugs unrepentantly.

“Last chance,” Tommy says, picking up his knife.

“Please don’t,” the man breaks suddenly as Tommy’s hand moves towards his throat. “I really don’t know anything! He just paid me to approach you with the knife at the right time. I was supposed to make sure you didn’t look east? There were four other men who knew the rest of the plan.”

“And…?” Tommy says sharply, taking one step back.

“I don’t _know_! One of them asked,” he looks like he’s wracking his brain. It’s a good act. “-if they were going back ‘there’ again. And another told him they were and complained about the ‘fucking creaking.’”

“Where is _there_ ,” Tommy asks, moving back towards him.

“I don’t know!” Tommy presses the knife to his throat. “I really don’t!”

“Tommy!” Lovett cries. Tommy’s head jerks up. “The old mill.”

Tommy nearly drops the knife in his hustle to get them out of the room. “Explain,” he snaps at Lovett once they’re out of earshot.

“It’s east of town, the wheel creaks really obnoxiously, I snuck in there a few times while you guys would fish when we were younger. They’d hide out there until the search died down and then take a little rowboat down the river, it’s an unobtrusive way to get back,” Lovett says.

Tommy shakes his head. “That’s a stretch.”

“Yeah,” Lovett says honestly. “But it makes sense. The river goes south towards where they’ve been hiding out. That guy’s not going to tell you anything more, this is the best lead we have.”

“He will if I…” Tommy fingers the blade in his hand.

“He’s going to start lying,” Lovett says sharply. “You know I’m right. And you know the mill makes sense.”

It does make sense. And if anyone’s going to figure it out with this little information, it’s Lovett.

“Okay,” Tommy says. “I’m going.”

Lovett grabs his elbow before he can take even one step.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, chin up determinedly. Tommy looks him up and down, eyebrows up.

“Like hell you are.”

“You’re going to need some brains with all your brawn,” Lovett says, voice shaking with false bravado. “Tommy, I can’t stay here and wait. I can help you.”

“And if we find Fabio’s men?” Tommy can feel himself spiraling. The thought of Lovett with them when the swords get drawn... “You’ll get killed.”

“I won’t!” Lovett yells.

“I can’t lose you too!”

Tommy freezes. He didn’t mean to say that. Lovett stares at him, eyes wide, and then he’s moving forward, arms encircling Tommy’s shoulders, pushing him against the wall.

“I can’t lose you either,” Lovett whispers and then they’re kissing, too hard, too fast, bruising in the intensity of their anger and fear.

Precious seconds are ticking by, but Tommy can’t stop kissing Lovett. Finally he pulls himself back and stares.

“I thought you-” he manages slowly.

“Jon, I thought you wanted Jon," Lovett says at the same time.

Tommy shakes his head and then nods.

“He’s the prince,” Tommy says, matter of fact.

“I do,” Lovett says quietly.

Tommy sighs. “I love both of you." Lovett is gasping for breath like he can’t get enough air.

“We _have_ to get him back," Lovett says firm and intent and _fierce_. Tommy can’t fight him anymore.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he orders. “Even if what I tell you to do is hide and do nothing. _Especially_ if what I tell you to do is hide and do nothing.”

“Yes sir,” Lovett smirks with a sloppy salute. Tommy rolls his eyes. This is a terrible idea.

“Let’s go bring him home then.”

 

***

 

Tommy’s first thought when he takes out the last man in the mill is _Jon!_ His second thought is _fuck, Lovett’s going to be so smug_.

Jon is there.

Jon’s hands are tied above him to one of the old rotting beams in the ceiling. If they hadn't already taken down all the men who took Jon, Tommy would throw them off a cliff for putting him in such a dangerous place.

Jon’s face is bleeding and his forehead has a giant bruise that’s starting to swell. Tommy wants to kill Jon's captors a second time for touching a single hair on his head. Instead he takes the much more logical and useful approach of rushing across the uneven floor to Jon’s side.

“Tommy,” Jon says hoarsely.

“I’ve got you,” Tommy murmurs as Cody cuts the ropes and Jon falls forward into Tommy’s arms. “You’re okay, we’re taking you home.”

“Jon!” Lovett yells as he trips through the doorway. He was supposed to wait outside.

“Lovett?” Jon tries to lift his head to look over Tommy’s shoulder but can’t seem to manage.

“He insisted,” Tommy says softly, shifting Jon to a standing position, one arm around him to hold him steady. Jon takes two hesitant steps before he stumbles forward, would hit the ground if not for Tommy’s grip. “Careful, my prince.”

“Here,” Lovett slides under his other side, shouldering some of Jon’s weight. Tommy meets his eyes over Jon’s head. Lovett looks as relieved as Tommy feels.

“God you’re heavy,” Lovett bitches as they help Jon out the door and towards the horses, “remind me to never have to haul your dead weight around again.”

Tommy hisses a little in reprimand but Jon just laughs thinly. “I’ll… try,” he mumbles.

“You’re with me sir,” Tommy tells Jon intently, boosting him carefully onto the horse and swinging up behind him. The fact that Jon’s not steady enough to ride is a good excuse for Tommy to keep him close and protected.

Jon groans a little in pain as they start to move, shifting slightly in front of him.

“Alright?” Tommy asks, worried. He can’t tell what those bastards did to him, though a cursory check hadn’t revealed major injuries, it would be just like Jon to nobly grin and bear it.

“Just a little sore,” Jon murmurs, head settling against Tommy’s chest. “Tired.”

Tommy’s chest hurts from the mix of rage and love. “You can sleep. I’ll get you home,” he promises.

“Did you know I fucking hate horses?” Lovett mutters, trotting up next to them. Jon’s sleepy laugh and the rhythm of Lovett’s rant wash around Tommy as he guides them towards home.

 

***

 

“You can really… I’m alright, go sleep,” Jon says, when the crush of doctors and parents and courtiers have finally emptied his bedroom.

Tommy doesn’t move from the post he’d assigned himself after carrying a barely conscious Jon inside the palace, Jon’s head lolling against his chest while Lovett obnoxiously warned Tommy not to drop him.

Tommy had leaned against the wall by the bed and Lovett had hovered by Jon’s head through the doctor’s pronouncement that Jon is a little concussed but otherwise unharmed, through the king and queen’s delighted reunion with their son, through Jon’s pained retelling of the salient details of his kidnapping to the head of intelligence.

And now Jon’s trying to kick them out. “I’m fine,” he says again in response to Tommy’s glare. “I’m not going to get kidnapped again.”

Tommy growls low in his throat. “You might.”

Lovett shivers. “We've decided this is how things are going to be," he says, pulling an armchair across the room next to Jon’s bed. Tommy widens his eyes at him. Is he doing this now? “We're not leaving you alone again. You get into too much trouble."

“He wasn’t alone,” Tommy mutters miserably. They both ignore him.

Jon sighs a little and sinks back into the pillows, evidently giving up on the fight for now. Tommy thinks he’s fallen asleep when he suddenly turns his face up again.

“I was starting to think I’d never see you again," Jon admits in a tiny, frightened voice.

“We’d never leave you,” Lovett says fiercely.

Tommy swallows around the lump in his throat. “You know I'd tear apart the whole fucking country to find you." Jon smiles at him instead of pointing out that if they’d been just a little slower it wouldn’t have mattered.

“I know,” Jon says softly. “I know you would. Both of you.”

Tommy’s eyes meet Lovett’s across the bed. Lovett has the same question in his eyes: more, now? Before they can resolve that problem, silently or aloud, Jon lets out a soft snore.

“Well that’s that,” Lovett stage whispers. It doesn’t matter how loud he is, Jon won’t wake up for anything once he’s asleep. “Come here Tommy.”

Tommy apparently doesn’t move fast enough for Lovett’s liking, because Lovett gets up and walks around the bed to meet him, bodily pushing Tommy until he falls into the armchair that Lovett’s moved next to Jon’s bed. Then Lovett, without a word, climbs into Tommy’s lap and curls up on top of him, eyes still on Jon.

Neither of them does more than doze all night. Tommy’s focus flits from the solid warmth of Lovett in his lap, Tommy’s arms wrapped around him, to the conversation they have to have with Jon, stretching out on an impossible limb, to Jon’s sleeping form, bruised face looking peaceful and beautiful. He’s here, he’s safe, he’s home, but he came so close to not being here. They came so close to losing him.

Tommy is watching Jon when he stirs to wakefulness shortly after the sun rises. Tommy is watching when Jon turns his face and sees them there, cuddled close together. Tommy is watching when Jon’s face falls.

Lovett must be watching too because he says, “hey sleepyhead,” before Tommy can speak. Jon doesn’t answer, staring at them.

“How are you feeling?” Tommy ventures. Jon frowns.

“So you two are finally together huh?" Jon asks bluntly. His voice only shakes a little, most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Tommy’s spent his whole life noticing every detail about Jon: his voice is shaking.

Lovett pushes to his feet immediately, shaking his head wildly. If Tommy didn’t know where Lovett was going with this, he’d be hurt by the speed with which Lovett denies Jon’s assertion.

Jon stares at them as they start talking over each other.

"Yesterday, we-"

"Tommy was being overprotective and I-"

"We kinda kissed and-"

"I wanted-"

"Then we haven't really-"

"You're fucking inheriting-"

Jon’s voice cuts through, fierce and loud. "I'm in love with you!"

Tommy and Lovett freeze, both staring at him. Jon’s face is flushed and he’s breathing rapidly, eyes flicking between them, but he looks resolved.

Jon’s confession hangs in the air for what feels like forever before Tommy forces himself to ask, “which-”

Jon shrugs helplessly. "Both of you? Sorry I know it-" he pauses and breathes slowly before continuing, emphasizing every word. “I'm saying this as _Jon_ not as-"

Lovett cuts him off with a kiss. Jon’s hands come up to clutch at his face like he’s drowning. Tommy feels like his heart is going to burst, watching them. Lovett, his obnoxious, loud, demanding, hilarious, fiercely loyal genius. And _Jon_ , apologizing for the best words that have ever left a human’s mouth. Jon, acutely conscious of his status, making sure that it’s clear he’s not asking anything of their oaths to serve his crown, that it’s just him, asking for them, asking for them like they could ever say no.

Tommy trips a little as he gets up from the chair, sliding onto Jon’s bed next to Lovett, claiming his space with them. Jon reaches out for him, eyes shining. “We love you too, Jon,” Tommy promises, before closing the last bit of distance between them.

  



End file.
